my musical, manhattanese friend called me again. the first thing he did was make me sing him a song i wrote. sitting on my bed in the room that's been mine since toddlerdom, the walls still sweet pea pink from when i was five (so many times in my teens i begged my mom to let me repaint them and she refused) singing into the mouthpiece to this boy,
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and gratz for being productive. today I came home from work and sketched something for the first time in months... then took it into photoshop and BAMMED it, Emeril style.
if you see him, tell him I said hi and that I'm not dead
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cant thank you ENOUGH for the icon....
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